


Minuet

by bruisecore



Category: Death Note
Genre: Adoption, Angst, Autistic Character, Multi, musician au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 20:26:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4759853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bruisecore/pseuds/bruisecore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles in which L is a world renowned pianist and Light is a genius high school student. They struggle and live on. [On indefinite hiatus.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Minuet

**Author's Note:**

> First fic in a while, huh? My senior year of high school started three weeks ago, and it's taking a toll on my mental health. I won't bore you with the details. ;p
> 
> I don't know where I'm going with this, but here we go.

L's playing makes Light feel like less of a corpse and more like a living, breathing human being with hopes, fears - the whole shebang. Sometimes, he lays in a tangled mess of blankets and pillows at night, headphones pressed snuggly against his ears, and pretends that his pulse is syncing up with the beat of the music. It makes him warm and tingly and undignified, but as a teenager, Light thinks he's entitled to feeling small and childish. At the very least in the privacy of his own room.

Light chooses L's nocturnes and sonatas over school work more and more as the days pass and get shorter. Homework is cold and faraway, and Light doesn't think he has much time left. He might as well spend that time in love with a foregin pianist and his music.

 

* * *

L is a pianist and a genius and he lives up to those titles. He lives beautifully and recklessly in his own private way. His adopted little siblings and old Mr. Wammy prefer it that way, and so does he. This way, he can keep on eye on his little family and throw himself into his work, playing on his Steinway in their living room by the Atlantic and Yamaha's in grand halls that make everyone in them look bland and insignificant in comparison.

L doesn't like the way people dress when they come to his concerts. They whisper amongst themselves and stare like vultures while scuttling around in their black suits and dresses, making it seem like they're coming to a funeral. L's funeral. He, of course, takes the initiative to dress as casually as possible when he plays, even when it outrages critics. Sadly, few people follow his lead and wear less black.

On the bright side, it makes his sibling Near less self-conscious. They don't seem as uncomfortable about wearing pajamas to his concerts when they get to walk around hand in hand with the star of the show, who just so happens to be wearing creased, baggy, jeans and no shoes.


End file.
